Everything That Makes me Sick
by Gaaras-Gothic-Ninja-Sappy-Sue
Summary: Naruto hates everything about school and now that he's finally a senior, he's determined to ruin the reputation of every teacher that made his student life a living hell. Starting with butt ugly sticky fingers Orochimaru. Profanity warning.
1. Enter Naruto

**Everything That Makes Me Sick**

Chapter One: _Enter Naruto_

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This school is fucked up.

I mean—all schools are pretty messed up, but this school—_this _school, takes the cake.

Take me, for example. But before you do, if you think, that I'm being some kind of hypocrite—that I think I'm _better_ than everyone else— then you're wrong, because I know—I _know_, that I'm just as bad as all the fucking retards in this school.

So take me, for example— nineteen years old, and in twelfth grade (pathetic right?)—except for the fact that a nineteen year old in twelfth grade is progress for this school. And it's not like I got left back or anything, which is the sad part; I just started school late. But it's still progress for Konoha High—school for retards, haha.

So.

Nineteen years old, twelfth grade—failing all my classes by the way—except gym, of course, 'cause the gym teacher likes me—she likes all the boys. ; ) In more ways than one, _LOL, _as Sakura would say_._

LOL. Laugh out loud. That bitch Sakura put that in my head. With every word, every fucking sentence that comes out of her mouth it's — LOL, LOL, LO- freaking-L. And her twin—Ino— is LMAO. It was cute back in freaking eighth grade when they were still fucking virgins— when Pinky hadn't aborted my fucking baby.

But whatever, you know? I'll live.

And we're getting off track. Let's get back to business: this school is fucked up.

Don't get me wrong. We have our smart kids, but they're all poor so it doesn't even matter what they can bring to this school. The principle- this high and mighty old bitch— doesn't give a damn about anything that goes on here, and the smart kids never get recognized for anything because she doesn't bother to send the standardized tests to the state- or where ever the fuck they're supposed to go, and even if she _did,_ the bastards up at the department of education would take one look at the first two thousand failing grades from our school and give up on the rest, so the smart kids on the bottom of the list won't even get looked at, _or_ they would accuse the poor bastards of cheating.

So yeah. This school is fucked up.

If you happened to hear the nostalgic bitterness underneath my complaints you would've probably guessed that I, Uzumaki Naruto, was one of those smart kids- back in ninth grade- maybe a little of tenth. But then we got some new teachers, an ocean of _noob_ students, and an old hag principle that totally fucked up my reputation. Now none of the teachers even know who the hell I am- the first student to ever get a fuckin' A+ in Ibiki's English class before he got fired for "torturing" one of his students, they say.

But whatever. It's all in the past.

After my name was just a sea of letters in an over populated school for retards, I figured I had nothing left in life. So I started drinking. Smoking. Fucking. What ever worked to keep my head clear- myanger down- I have a nasty anger by the way. Nasty-_ LOL_, as Sakura would say. LOL indeed you murderer bitch.

But enough of that. This school is fucked up. And not the kind of fucked up that you're used to- like mean teachers (hell, if they're mean they probably CARE about you) I'm talking about freaking rapists teachers and sluthound students and a drunken principle. This school would be a freaking prison ward if we added just a few bars in each classroom and wore orange jumpsuits. And hell, if you ask me, _any_ kind of uniform would do this school good; it would save me the damn _pleasure_ of having my hard dick pressed against my fucking leg 'cause freakin' Temari doesn't know what the hell a fucking bra is, and it would save me the _pleasure_ of having to vomit inside my mouth 'cause freakin' Karen, the ugly bitch, decides to wear something only a hot skinny girl should wear. Don't get me wrong, we've got our fair share of sexy chubs and tubs, but Karen needs to either a face lift or a tummy tuck before she can get off my FAIL list.

Just saying.

But anyway, this school is fucked up. I can't say it enough times- I just _CAN'T_. Especially not after today. Not after what I saw.

Remember when I called the teachers rapists? Call it an exaggeration and I'll shoot you. The teachers are RAPISTS. I should make a damn sign and hang it up in every teacher's room- except the gym of course, 'cause Kurenai's hot.

But that doesn't change my mind about the rest of sick teachers in this damn school. There's a disease spreading around in the school. It's called Desperate Motherfuckers. It's an epidemic, I tell you; Everyone, and I mean _everyone_—except yours_ truly _of course, has fucked with at least one teacher to get a decent grade. EVERYONE. Choji did it, freakin' genius _Shikamaru_ did it, Sakura and Ino do it _daily_— I swear if those chicks keep scraping their vaginas with the abortion spatula they' won't even have a vagina anymore. Either that or it's gonna be paper thin and narrow- and that's the _last_ thing Ino needs. I would know.

Back to the teachers. Let me tell you about my _favorite_ two. Sugestsu and Kimmimori—the science teacher and his student teacher. I hear they invite girls for threesomes, foursomes, entire_ homeroomclasssomes_. I would respect them if it weren't for the fact that they were probably thirty and fucking ten year old kids. Okay, I take it back, lest I make you vomit- FIFTEEN year olds. Better?

Anyway.

The English teachers are a bunch of tight nit pansies who pretend they don't like it when girls come up to them and ask if they could make some, ah, _arrangements_, so they could pass the class, but then after school they call up the hoes and have em' stay to, uh, _negotiate_. The two English teachers don't really speak to each other so they're boring when it comes to double plug action. Besides, one of em's a chick. If you can call the bitch that. Beastly Anko.

And finally, the most fucked up, _conveniently_ most hideous teacher of all— the math teacher.

I _hate_ him. I-I can't even _begin_ to tell you how much I _despise_ that guy. I'm spluttering up just thinking about it—_GODS_. His very being just makes me—

Let me stop. Before I hurl something against the wall again.

_Deep_ breaths.

Okay… I'm cool.

Anyway.

His name's Orochimaru, and he's a fucking punk bitch with long hair and this pale sickly looking skin that makes you want to scratch yourself. The only good thing about all this is that everyone shares my tastes in that Orochimaru looks like Voldermort with hair implants after plastic surgery (gone horribly wrong), so no one ever goes to him for favors, you know? You'd have to be desperate to go that guy for any kind of help. Of course there have been those who've shared stories of how they'd tried to seduce the guy into giving them s higher grade without fuckin' em, but they've all failed. Some of the girls who've tried have even stated Orochimaru was gay. Unfortunately for the suck ups, we only have one math teacher, so when you fail, he's the only one to go to.

If I didn't make it clear before, I'd like to say that take a bullet to the head before I even touch him for a good grade. I've failed everything—what's a math score going to do? Nothin'. And honestly, as messed up as all of the students in this school are, I didn't think they would sink as low as to ask freakin' _Orochimaru_ to make "special" accommodations for them.

So. I pretty much thought Orochimaru got no action (except for maybe that time people say he was caught screwing Anko, yuck), but that was before I saw what I did today. And you know what I saw? I saw Orochimaru totally banging a student.

Oh, the_ horror_. And it was a horror. It really was. Not only because of the fact that it was _Orochimaru _for Pete's sake, but because of who the guy was screwing. He was screwing Gaara Sabako.

Oh, wait. Right. You probably don't know who the hell I'm talking about, and to tell you the truth, I don't think anyone else knows who this guy is either, so let me hit you up with a little 411.

Gaara is the kind of guy that when he first walks into the room, you think he's a girl— not an especially pretty girl but one of those emo chicks you just wanna tip over and bang until they start living up to their stereotypically emo name and cry. Yeah. That kinda girl. Yum~. But then they call attendance and you realize that he's not a girl at all 'cause his name is freakin' _Gaara_ - and you feel embarrassed because you're already hard for this "should be a girl" guy. Then you figure you might as well not be embarrassed 'cause he looks like a girl anyway, and in a school as fucked up as this, it would _hardly_ matter if you had the hots for someone of the same sex. And this kid...he's so freaking small; he's some kind of five foot six' in a sea of six foot monsters, hell, even the girls are taller.

Gaara transferred here from some top notch school he got kicked out of. I think he got kicked out because of low grades or something because when I look at him, I don't see a delinquent or someone who'd get kicked out because they had a fight. He looks like a guy who just wasn't good enough. I also think he's rich- er- well- not _poor._ He comes to school with_ BlaQ on BlaQ Qurime _clothes- that cool new emo brand you'd find in that clothing store down at Kotten King street. He's always wearing black- maybe a few whites and grays- but always black and some kind of sweater/hoodie whatever the hell they wanna call it. If you looked close enough you'd realize that everyday it's a different hoodie. Or sweater. Whatever. And they look expensive.

You're probably wondering how the hell I know this stuff. Well I _don't_ know. I _notice_. And hell, maybe I've got him all wrong. Maybe he _was_ a delinquent from his old school and just has this weak looking exterior meant to fool unsuspecting victims, haha. Maybe he's some poor bastard who's borrowing sweaters from his deceased brother who just happened to have a lot of hoodies. But I doubt that.

So let's pretend that everything I just said is correct. Let's pretend that Gaara is that possibly very smart shy kid with no real delinquency issues with a pretty wealthy family and maybe a few sisters.

Now ask yourself, what is a guy like that, doing fucking butt ugly Orochimaru?

Yeah, well, I'm here to find out.

And don't try to stop me, hell, all these freakin' teachers had it coming. All of them—except Kurenai, 'cause she's hot— deserve to get chopped into little pieces, deserve to lose their jobs, deserve to be humiliated in front of the mass media because they're all just so _fucked_ up. _Ugh_—it makes me _sick_—everything in this school makes me _sick_. Almost every teacher in this school, has made my life a living hell, and you know what? I'm going to make them pay. Starting with sticky fingers Orochimaru.

Don't ask me why I gave him that nickname; you don't want to know.

Trust me, you _don't_ want to know.

* * *

End Of Chapter

Story Notes (Read them Please ^^)

Oo0kay. O_O. Did I just write this?

First, I want to apologize if this chapter offended anyone and I mean _anyone_. In this story Naruto says some things that made me widen my eyes and actually contemplate deleting it, haha. But you must understand, I want to show how dangerously bitter and nasty Naruto is at this stage, so it becomes obvious when he becomes a little better later on. : )

I promise less cursing in the next chapter…or at least I'll use "freak" instead of "f_ck". XD, I can't even write it unless it's in the story anymore. I don't know how you guys feel about cursing but, after I've written it like thirty times, I kinda get sick of the word. .

I think this story'll be about ten chapters or so. The chapters will be short, so I might update maybe…uhm…every three weeks? I know—I take forever! : (. But I don't want to make false promises.

Uh…what else? This is Yaoi if Naruto's obvious like for his gym teacher throws you off, LOL, as Sakura would say. =] (I have no problem with lol, by the way, like Naruto does. T_T')

And I'm going to say something that might spoil the story a little, but Naruto's a bit loose in the head in my story. Don't believe everything he says, wink wink. : )

Uhm…I don't know what else to say—oh! _BlaQ on BlaQ Qurime_ clothing line is something my friend and I made up while we were listening to Drake, haha, (it was a line in his song). So it isn't a real brand; don't go looking for it. I know I would've. ^_^"

O0okay. So. Review, please? They make me feel soo0 good. =] And be gentle, haha. I've never really written a story like this before.


	2. Enter Gaara and Orochimaru

**Everything that Makes Me Sick**

Chapter Two: _Enter Orochimaru and Gaara_

_

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_

"Naruto, this is the last time I'm going to tell you to stop forgetting to take your medicine."

Sometimes I wonder why I don't just take the gun in my stepfather's closet and just shoot the guy out of his misery already. I mean, he's fifty freakin' years old, and he's got no old bitch to love him like all the old grandpas in the park do, so he's just a bitter dude who regrets not having done all the things he wanted to do in life. Like marrying, for example.

I think I haven't shot him yet 'cause he's got all the money, and ever since I stole three thousand dollars to buy myself that used orange car I saw on display at _Stewie's Easy Deals_ used auto sale from his bank account, I have to run every single money transaction by him before I get so much as a cent.

I'm also not allowed to work because of some stupid policy called discrimination. _"If you have a history of mental illness, it is not advised that you_—" blah, blah, blah, and all that discriminatory crap adults like to pull on a retarded kid.

Well. Not retarded, per _se_. Not like I would _rather_ be.

Ha. Surprised? Well, yeah. I'd rather be retarded then mental, thanks. 'Cause those guys with physical issues with their brain get all the sympathy, and all these special _privileges_. Not _me_, though, haha. I'm just crazy.

Anyway.

"I don't forget to take the medicine, asshole. It ran out."

Asshole is my stepdad's nickname. If you ask me, it's more than fitting.

"Don't talk to me that way boy—and if it ran out, why the hell don't you go buy some more?"

Asshole.

"The pharmacist doesn't let me get anything without the prescription—which you lost."

My stepfather loses everything in the house.

"You're an adult, Naruto. Do I have to be the one to tell you to go to your doctor and get a new prescription?"

"They don't believe me when I say I'm nineteen." This is a lie, 'cause I haven't been in the hospital for a year now. I hate the smell. Blech. Like old people and period blood.

"I find that hard to believe, Naruto. I just think you just haven't gone to the hospital."

It kind of freaks me out when my stepdad knows what's going on with me, especially since he's such an idiot most of the time. "I _have_ gone, asshole. I told you, they need some kind of parent with me."

"Naruto…" my stepdad does one of those sighs he likes to breathe out once he's just fed up with me but doesn't feel like doing anything about it. This is a good sign, 'cause it means he's probably going to head on into his room and masturbate himself to sleep. That'll leave me time to go out and do whatever I want.

"Fine," I say, 'cause I can see my step dad open his mouth to say something else. "I'll go tomorrow. After school."

I'm lying, of course, but parents, especially old surrogate ones, are idiots and they believe everything you say as long as it means they can take their mind off your problems for a while.

"I hope you're not lying to me, Naruto…" my stepdad says softly.

There was a time when my stepdad wouldn't take shit from me. He would beat me when I didn't do what he wanted. He would be a freakin' big boss, what with his huge figure and that stupid white hair that he grew way to long for an old dude. He used to write these books, and according to him, they made millions of dollars. Of course I don't believe that, but still. My stepdad used to be badass. Now he's just an old punk who needs to be spent sexually to fall asleep, haha. Poor old man. I can't wait for him to die.

But besides that.

Remember yesterday's plan? Well I guess you can't really call it a plan, it's more of an _idea_. But still. Do you remember it? Good, 'cause you're gonna help me pull it off.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, how the hell are_ you_ gonna help? But I've got it covered, trust me.

So.

When I go into the school building today, I'm not gonna go to my first class, instead I'm gonna wait for Gaara—remember him? outside of advanced medical science. I have to wait for him there because Iruka, our new English teacher, doesn't let anyone out ten minutes before the class ends.

Hmm. I've never mentioned Iruka, have I? I guess it's because he's not that fucked up. Not like the other teachers. I don't think he so much has eyed a student in a greedy way. In fact, I think Iruka has the hots for the French teacher, Kakashi, haha.

I don't have Kakashi for a teacher, and Iruka's not messed up like the other teachers, so I suppose I'll spare them the humiliation I'm gonna cause all the other teachers in the school. Except the gym teacher, of course. 'Cause she's hot.

So anyway. I'm going to wait for Gaara outside of his class, and then I'm gonna ask him to meet me at lunch today. I'm not gonna sit with my friends today (yes I have friends, surprise, _surprise_), instead I'm gonna sit with the redhead, and have him confess to me that he and Orochimaru have been totally fucking. And I know he'll confess, because honestly, what is there to _hide_ in this school? Everyone is messed up. He can't possibly not tell me. And when he confesses, I'll have him join me in my quest to totally eliminate Orochimaru. Hell, maybe he'll help me kill all the other teachers too.

My plan is brilliant, I know it, haha.

I've left my apartment, and I'm walking to school. It's a thirty minute walk on lazy days, but today is not a lazy day. I've got shit to get done, so it takes like ten minutes to get there. The school is huge, with twenty different entrances. I take the one closest to Gaara's Medical Science class. I have to meet him first period because this is the only class I know he has, and if I miss him now, I'll have to hope I meet him in the hallways by chance.

Okay. In front of the classroom now. Classes last like, fifty five minutes, but I came prepared for the wait. The halls are empty, so I take out my PSP. It sucks most of the time. I wish I'd bough a D.S instead, but this things got more gigabytes. I can put a whole bunch of crap on my PSP. Games, music, porn, you name it.

I play a game to pass the time. Arcade Madness. I'm _owning_ PACMANS yellow ass.

Sometimes, when I'm alone and playing in my PSP, I start to hear things, besides you, of course—you've been here since the beginning, so it's no big deal with you. But when it's really quiet, I start to hear the other voices too. Talking to me. It's no big deal, 'cause I don't talk back. What for? I already have you.

But anyway. I was just wondering why they talk to me. Any ideas? No? I didn't think so. We don't need to deal with them anyway; they have no business with us.

Minutes pass. It nears an hour, and finally—_Briiiing_. Class is over. I'm standing up, waiting for the students filing out of the classroom to make way for a mop of red hair.

And then there he is.

Hmm. He's even shorter when his hands aren't on a table with his legs on the air while some hideous teacher bangs him from behind.

He doesn't see me, and I run up to him, block his way.

Man, he's short. And he's got heavy eyeliner around his eyes that I haven't noticed before. He's looking up at me with wide eyes that look so fuckin' innocent and I'm reminded why I'm here in the first place.

"Can we meet at lunch?" as I ask quickly, because he looks like one of those kids whose never been late to class, and I know I'm taking up his time—don't ask me why I care about that right now.

"U-uh…"

"Yes or no, genius." I can't help it, but I just get so impatient sometimes.

He takes offence then, and his eyes narrow. I soften my eyes, because I must be scaring the shit outta him—I'm freakin' six foot two—and I just want him to say yes so I can get the hell out of here.

"Why?" he asks slowly, his hands tighten around his books, which he's clutching against his chest like a little _girl_ if you ask me.

"I just want to talk." I want to add asshole but something stops me.

Gaara—what a stupid name, by the way—looks at me with those wide eyes of his, and he opens his mouth to speak—

_Briiing_—the late bell.

"O-okay." He says quickly before turning to walk around me.

I smirk then. Part one of my mission is complete. "We'll meet at the west quad!" I call out to him, 'cause he's running to his next class.

I wonder if he hears me, but then I shrug my shoulders. It doesn't matter if he heard or not because we have lunch at the same period—I'll stalk the redhead out of the crowd if I have to.

I have Orochimaru now. Math. Bah. Maybe sitting in his class will rev me up for my meeting with candy-hair Gaara.

I take my sweet time getting to class, because Orochimaru doesn't deserve my promptness. I know that sticky-fingers has his eyes on me. He knows that I'm failing his class, and he's probably baffled as to why I haven't begged to suck him off yet.

Well I have a fucking big surprise for that asshole.

The classroom is down the hall and thirty seconds later I'm entering it. Orochimaru's taking attendance, and he looks at me when I come in.

"Naruto. Nice of you to join us."

I ignore the pedophile for now 'cause I don't really feel like listening to sick fuckers at the moment. I sit in the back of the classroom and try to ignore everyone's who's staring at me as I walk by.

Lately everyone's been staring at me every time I walk by. I think they know that I'm the only who hasn't screwed with a teacher yet. I wonder if the students are in some kind of club, that if you finally fuck a teacher you get some kind of membership through some wicked orgy ceremony and special tattoos.

I didn't realize that I was laughing at the thought aloud, until Orochimaru comments. "Is there something funny you would like to share with us, Naruto?"

I snort. I'm already sitting down, and I lean back in my chair with my hands behind my head. "Orgy initiation ceremonies." I say.

The kids around me giggle and Orochi-fagtwat sputters. I shrug my shoulders. He _asked_.

Hey. Listen to me. Here's a lesson you should learn about teachers. They can't do _shit_. If they try to embarrass you in class, embarrass the fuckers back. I mean, what the hell are they gonna do? Call your _parents_? Well, let me tell you something else: Parents can't do _shit_ either. Next time a teacher asks you to share your inside jokes with the class, fucking _share_ the joke. And add something to it that'll embarrass the hell out of the asshole.

"_Mr_. Uzumaki Naruto."

OoOoOoh, my whole _name_. I'm fucking _scared_. Cue my rolling eyes.

Orochimaru's glaring at me now, with his thin lips shut tight in anger.

Ha. His lips.

They remind me of Ino's tight twat lips in ninth grade, before she started using her fingers on her own to make them all swollen and _bulbousy_, yuck.

I think Orochimaru has given up on trying to threaten me with his tightening vagina lips, and his pedophile eyes, so he goes back to taking attendance.

Bastard.

For the rest of the class, I lean back in my chair and relax. I hear little conversations around the classroom, of people who aren't paying attention either. I try to listen in, but can't 'cause they're all whispering. I've never really had another student to chat with in Orochimaru's class.

Well—except _you_ of course.

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End of Chapter

Author Notes:

Haha, this chapter wasn't as much of an eye catcher as the first, but it's sort of like a filler.

I guess you guys can tell that Naruto's a little crazy, tee hee~

Read & Review, and if anything at all offended you in this chapter or the previous one, please accept my apologies. =]


	3. Enter Tweedle Twins, Guy, Anko & Sasuke

**Everything That Makes Me Sick**

Chapter Three: _Enter the Tweedle Twins, Guy, Anko, and Sasuke_

* * *

I want you to do something for me. I want you to go to my house, sneak into my step-dad's room, take the pistol he hides on the bottom of his underwear drawer, come to school with it, point it at my forehead, and _shoot_ me.

I'd bang my head against the wooden floor but I'd have to bend over to do that, and I'm afraid of what this freak of a substitute teacher would do to me if he had so much of a _glimpse_ of my immaculate ass.

You guessed it. Kurenai isn't here today; we've got a freakin' substitute—and wait, not just any substitute—_the_ substitute: The guy this school has for every subject whenever a teacher isn't here. He graduated with some master's degree in fucking up the civil lives of innocent individuals like all the other teachers in this joint, so I'm not surprised.

But still.

You can substitute Orochimaru, you can substitute Anko—but to substitute _Kurenai_, of all people with this _freak_? Blasphemy.

You're probably wondering why the hell I hate this guy but just look at him. Take a moment and look at him. Look at those eyebrows. And tell me why the hell he has to _dance_ every fucking time he says something. He takes attendance like a ballerina, he shouts out orders like a spasming monkey, and exercises like hyperactive banshee on the sickest dose of crack.

Now, ask me again why the hell I hate him. I dare you.

You still don't think this is enough to hate the guy? Let me give you an overall run-down. There really are only three things you need to know, so you can put yourself on my level of hate for this man. One, he's a fag. Too harsh? Don't fuck with me. I can do harsh—and _that _my friend is nothing compared to what else I can say about him. But first of all, before you slap me over the forehead with nonsense about _freedom of expression_, let me elaborate on the fact. The substitute is a fag in that he practices obscene measures of fagetry. Not all fags practice fagetry (a code that has been around for years before homo-sex wasn't okay anymore), but this guy does. One code of fagetry is to dress in drag, which the substitute does _all_ the time. I don't care what you say about green single piece jumps-suits—only people with (real) tits and curves should be seen in them.

Anyway. Number two. He's having sex with a student who could be his SON. Let me repeat that: he's having sex with a student who could be his _SON_. You think I'm exaggerating now, but wait, just _wait_, you'll see for yourself once _Cock_ Lee comes out of the teacher's locker room. I don't wanna get into the details of what, why, where, or when right now 'cause I heard we're having tots for lunch today and I don't need vomit in my mouth two periods before I get to eat some.

Alright, and number three―probably the most important if you ask me—is his name. It's quite inappropriate if you ask me. Take a bit of irony add satire and a bit of humor and you get the gym teacher's name: GUY. Yeah, that's right. If you ask me, this dude changed his name from whatever gay name his mom gave him (I'm guessing Lulu or Blanket) and chose something inconspicuous so that people wouldn't notice that he bats, serves, and cheers for the other team. And honestly, _Guy_? He belongs in my English class on a lesson about juxtapositions and ironic differences between character traits and their names.

There should be a forth reason. I mentioned it before, but I feel like I absolutely must say it again: He's substituting for KURENAI. There. Need I elaborate on that? _Need_ I? I think not. In fact, I'm not alone in this opinion. Do a fucking once-over at the kids in the gym. Look at their faces. You'd think their mothers died or something. Which, by the way, is probably less punishment than this. I mean come on. _Kurenai_. Busty, beautiful, tight sweat pants wearin', unconscious ass shaking, hair flowing, camel toe showing _Kurenai_. Just thinking about her gets me hard.

Oh, God. Look at Guy. He's dancing. And talking about eternal youth. I don't know why he is though. His squeeze Cock Lee isn't here to joyously agree with him while spermworks come out of his eyes in agreeing jubilation. Let me tell you why Guy is always talking about eternal youth. You might have noticed he does this in every class, and I've finally figured out why it's such a big deal to him. Alright. Ready? It's 'cause he's a fucking pedophile.

I'm not gonna elaborate on it. I've told you before what I thought about these teaching child molesters. Just know that Guy is gonna get his when the time comes. Damn straight. He's gonna get it. Right in his fake vagina. No homo.

* * *

English.

Did I tell you that I used to be awesome in this class? Well I was. Still am, sometimes. But ever since Mr. Ibiki left and was replaced with this new bitch…

Well. Let me tell you a little bit about _Anko_. She's a fucking dinosaur. That's all you need to know. She's got man-muscles that Guy wishes he could cover up in his drag and wears fishnets to school to _make a statement_ she says. Don't get me wrong, I've cummed to my fair share of fishnet wearing chicks, but when you're forty years old with breasts that sag to your knees (did I mention she doesn't wear a bra?) and a face that makes that obese-bitch _Karen_ look good, you're doing something wrong.

The only thing that saves Anko from my wrath is the fact that no matter how hideous she is, it's no match for the hideousity that is my entire English class. It's like fate lined up every person I've ever hated in this school and put them all here.

_Sakura's_ here. Gods. I sit in the front 'cause I know she's giving head to some random dude (or chick; I'm not sure if she's out of that "phase") in the back or masturbating to the sound of Sasuke rejecting the shit out of her every time she asks him out (which is like ten times a day, true story).

Tweedle Dumber is here. A.K.A narrow vagina chick, A.K.A slut-hound number two A.K.A _Ino_.

I swear to god if either of them say LOL or LMAO or ROTFL I'm gonna SMFUTA. Translation: stuff my fist up their asses.

Anko is walking up and down the room with one of those long rulers. I don't know why. This isn't a fucking math class. If anything she uses it to fuck her male students up the ass when they ask for higher grades 'cause she doesn't have the cock she always wanted.

Anyway. Today's about alliterations. Don't ask why we're doing alliterations in twelfth grade. This is baby stuff.

"Alright class." Anko says in her man-voice. "I'm gonna pair you all in groups of fours so you can come up with alliterations to share with the class." She turns around and goes to write on the board, and even from behind I can see little bit of her side boob, covered lazily by a ripping fishnet, spilling out.

As soon as she says we're going to be in pairs I already know who she's gonna sentence me to.

"Ino, " she says. "Why don't you Sakura, Sasuke and…Naruto group up."

Unsurprising.

Everyone's moving their chairs around, trying to get together with their groups, but I don't move. I wait for the tweedle bitch sisters and Emo-King to find me up here. They do, in a second, dragging their seats and forming a sort of square shape around me. I glare at Sakura. "Hey, baby killer."

Sakura sticks her tongue at me like the genius she is, and scowls. "It wasn't like that, Naruto and you know it. Always makin' up shit, lol. You need to chillax and realize once and for all that the baby wasn't yours in the first place."

I laugh in her face. Can you believe this woman? "Wasn't _mine_? Do you need me to force my cock in your ear and poke the part of your brain where your memory is? You're the one who came crying to _me_ about the baby being mine and if I remember correctly, your vagina bled like crazy when I was in it. You didn't fuck anyone else."

Sasuke laughs from beside me. His eyes are hooded like all the other emos are, and his mouth is burned in places from all that shit he smokes. I have no idea why people like him. He's a drug addict— and not one of the hardcore ones either. He's too pussy to do coke or heroin but hops on every opportunity to snort the raw weed plants in the back of his house every night. I heard his first house burned down 'cause he let the flames catch up to the porch of his house. And yet people _still_ like the case-a-dildo. I swear, what is there to _like_? His face is pale and gaunt and he's lankier than I ever was, and if anyone could see him when he's about to sleep in class, they'd see that he has a lazy eye.

But of course being a pussy-druggie with a pale-ass face and a lazy eye doesn't stop these girls from going after him. And I know why. Sasuke's got an alibi that not a lot of us kids do. If you ask me, it's all bullshit; I think he's lying, but the fact that this sticker is on this pussy-druggie every day is probably how he's managed to latch on to the hearts of all these idiot girls. You see, the thing is, everyone thinks Sasuke is a _virgin_. Like I said, I don't believe it, but what girl doesn't like a virgin in this tainted school?

Don't get me wrong; I still don't think it's enough to cross out the obvious faults this guy has, but it's enough for the rest of the school.

Anyway. I ignore Sasuke, because he isn't worth my time, and never will be. Instead I go to Sakura. She's got a tan today, and it looks awful. Let me tell you this now before you go to the tanning salon to try to imitate my fabulous skin. I. Am. All. Natural. Bitch, I was born this way. No one can replicate this tan—not even Cock Lee, whose come close at times, but can never get it right 'cause he doesn't have a gorgeous face to match. Look at Sakura's face. See how badly she's fucked up her skin? She makes tans look like shit, and I don't appreciate that. She wasn't all that great with that pasty skin, but it sure as hell is way better than that orange slab of meat her face has become. I want to tell her this. "Hey Sakura—"

"Just forget it, Naruto." Ino pipes up from my left. "We gotta get this assignment done, and if I keep fucking up in this bitch's class she's gonna fail me again."

"Why don't you eat her out and boost up your grade?" I ask her, because she deserves it.

Ino laughs. "Like, lmao, Naruto. That's so fucking funny." She's being sarcastic. "Think of alliteration. What is that again? Like…the same sounds or something?"

"It's when most of the words in a sentence all have the same beginning sentence." Mumbles Sasuke. "Sally sold seashells by the seashore."

"Yeah, but I bet you wish Wally sold weed at the warehouse, right Sasuke?" I laugh at my own joke. It had to be said.

Sasuke glares at me with his lazy eye. "Shut the fuck up, Naruto." He mumbles.

I laugh in his face. Who does he think he is? "Make me."

Sakura waves a manicured hand in between us. "Let's focus guys. We need to think of one by ourselves." She leans back and crosses her arms. I think she's looking for her thinking cap, which I'm sure she lost when she decided (unfortunately for us all) that she would _live_ when she came out of her mother's twat. "How about," she says, "Sally sneaks…silently…sadly…into…"

I laugh. "Having trouble there?"

Ino jumps in. "No wait. This is good. Sally sneaks sadly, silently into the…"

Are they serious? Sally sneaks sadly silently—I can't even take it. "How about sally steals silently into Spain?"

Ino and Sakura look at me and blink a few times. "That…isn't long enough." Ino says. "We need something long. So she thinks we're smart."

They need something long so Anko dinosaur thinks they're _smart_? Like what I said was _stupid_, or something?

"Thirty seconds!" shouts Anko.

"Damn it!" says Ino. She looks at Sakura with wide eyes. "Come on, finish it. Sally sneaks silently into—"

"Spain!" I tell her. "There. We're done."

Sakura rolled her eyes. It's got to be a tongue twister too."

"How about this?" says Sasuke from shitwhere. "Big black bed bugs bleed black blood."

One word. _Emo_.

"OMG, Sasuke that's fucking brilliant, LOL. Like where were you all this time. Gosh you're so freaking smart, LMAO, where the hell would we be without you?" I don't know which of the tweedle bitches said this, but like I said: Go to my house, sneak into my step-dad's room, take the pistol he hides on the bottom of his underwear drawer, come to school with it, point it at my forehead, and _shoot_ me.

Did I forget to mention that everyone in the school is under the impression that Sasuke is smart? It's because he's got the highest average of, I dunno—_sixty nine_ percent?

"Alright class. Group by group we're gonna see what you guys came up with." says Anko. Her tits are lost somewhere between her armpits now. "Who wants to go first?" No one raises their hands, so she goes randomly. The alliterations that come out of the groups are lame like ours is gonna be. I simply cannot let that happen. Who the hell wants to hear about bed bugs bleeding? People wanna hear about girls. About sex. That's what they want to hear.

"Alright, Ino's group. What did you come up with?"

Ino sits up and smiles her cock-sucker smile at Anko. "Big black—"

"Sexy sex slaves slobber sinuously over my sagging cock."

Now THAT's a fucking alliteration.

"Naruto!" Anko shouts and her tits move with her.

You know what I think? I think that Anko doesn't have a mind at all. It's her tits that control her. They're the ones behind her disgustingness. They're the culprits.

"This is the last time I'm gonna let you disrupt my class," says Anko's tits. "Get out and go to the principal's office!"

I laugh. Speaking of tits: our fucking _principal_. I shake my head and stand up from my chair.

"I don't want you back in my class unless you have a note from the principal allowing you in!"

"You sure I can't just suck your dick to get back in your good graces?" I ask her.

She's opening her mouth to retaliate, but I get the hell out of there before she can.

* * *

End of Chapter.

Wow. This chapter, I think, is probably more taboo than the first one was, and Mwahahaha. I. Made. Sasuke. UNCOOL. That's pretty awesome, if you ask me. = ].

Anyway, about this chapter. I'm sorry it took so long, but I'm having writer's block with LFFB, and I figure I might as well give you guys _something_ before I try to start writing it again. I didn't want to go into the whole plan with Gaara too soon; I wanted to introduce some more characters instead. I hope you like them.

Uhm, I'm sorry if Ino and Sakura had lame dialogue, or if they seemed like cliché dumb girls, or whatever—but I don't want to give them that much depth until later on. For now, I just want you guys, as readers, to **hate** them. =D.

I'm really sorry if the alliterations were lame, haha. Or offensive! I have nothing against bed bugs, or spain...or...sex slaves... Let's just pretend the alliterations were awesome! =D

Uhm…I apologize if I offended anyone. This is aaaalll in good humor. Don't be afraid to tell me to tone it down a bit though; I'll totally understand. I know I cursed a lot in this chapter but bear with me. Just know it gets worse before it gets better. O_o

If anything was at all confusing, please put it into your reviews. Speaking of reviews: Review! They make me feel so0o0 good.


	4. Enter The Busty Bitches and Mr Swag

**Everything That Makes Me Sick**

Chapter Four: _Enter_ _The Busty Bitches and Mr. Swag_

* * *

There's really very little you need to know about the principal's office. So little, in fact, that it only comes down to three things. 1. Don't stare at the principal's tits, 2. Don't stare anywhere near the principal's tits, and 3. Don't make it obvious when you inevitably start staring at the principal's tits.

Her tatas, her breasts, her boobaliscious, boobadelic, boobs.

Of which I can't stop staring at.

And what do you expect from me, really? I'm a man. I like women. And I like boobs. What does that make? A man who likes women with boobs. I'm not saying I wouldn't bang the nipples off a flat-chested chick, I'm just saying the bigger they are, the more you have to play with before you climax.

Anyway.

I'm staring at the principal's tits. What else is new? You really start to wonder what made them get so big once you start staring. The bitch is like fifty years old. She doesn't look it, but she is. I know because she keeps making references to old presidents like Jimmy Carter and Ronald Regan like she's actually slept with them. I wouldn't be surprised if she did really. She looks like such a slut.

Plus her name is Tsunade. If that doesn't scream old lady, I don't know what does. I think my asshole of a stepfather has a friend named Tsunade who he likes to talk about having sex with.

Tsunade leans back in her chair, and her boobs go with her. I don't see her face, only the way her cleavage spills over the top she chose to wear. The shirt has sleeves, but her _Tata's_ extend so far out that it looks like she's wearing a fancy tank top. I wonder if she shaves her armpits. She's over fifty, so she probably doesn't. Most people born before the 1980's missed the local Shave-Your-Damn-Armpits band-wagon. They lived in an era where porn chicks still had pubes, so what do you expect?

Sometimes I can't stand hairy armpits on women. You know who has hairy armpits? Karen. I know, it's no surprise, but come on. How disgusting can you get? She's got enough facial hair to donate multiple wigs to cancer wards. Honestly, give a guy a break.

Okay look. I know what you're thinking. So what if a chick has hairy armpits, right? And you're right—so _what_? But Karen's one of those girls who thinks it's cool to come to school in a tank top that barely covers her belly button and sweat pants that doesn't shield half of her ass crack. And she has no sense of _discretion_. She'll lift those sick little jelly arms—and not the normal fat arms with cute plump flesh, but that kind of arm that starts off with a skinny wrist and then extends to that hanging slab of meat I like to call Exercise-Bitch! skin—to reveal the glory that is the unshaved vagina of an armpit.

Speaking of vagina.

"...have I made myself _clear_, kid?"

Oh, wow. Had she'd been talking? I smile at the principal's tits, because they're the ones who deserve the gesture, "Perfectly, ma'am."

"Can I ask what it is you're _staring_ at?"

"Yes you may."

I can hear the principal's teeth grind from here.

Finally, I look up at her face. Alright. I admit it. From this angle, with the light of the window behind her head making her head shine like that, and the halo of light surrounding her amazing breasts, I would totally bang the principal. She's doing everything _right_, honestly. The shirt, her tits, her face. She's a GILF who looks more like a MILF. I doubt she has kids though. You remember the last time I was sent here. What? You don't remember?

Last time I was sent there, the busty bitch took an hour to get to me, 'cause she was too busy pounding a dildo into that fake secretary of hers.

I seriously never told you this? Well it's damn obvious that Tsunade prefers to swing on that side of the field. It's not like she's doing anything to hide it, anyway. You remember how it was in the beginning, right? When I thought she was a sex-crazed freak for having all those sex toys in her office? But then I found that strap-on—which I thought was an actual _cock_ for the longest time because of how freaking _real_ it looked—and I realized what she was _really_ about.

It isn't much of a funny story though, because there's one important thing you need to know about Tsunade: she eats men. Don't look at me like that. It's freaking true, I tell you. Idiots think it's a rumor 'cause it sounds so outrageous, but I'm telling you right now—it's not. She's a man-eater—the thick minxy kind with the fishnets hidden under her blouse and the hardcore lure-unsuspecting-fellow-male-into-a-basement-and-eat-the-shit-out-of-him kind of man eater.

Alright, so it might not be _eating_ per se, but the busty bitch is doing something to the helpless guys who get sent to her office. I figure she's doing some sort of spell to keep her boobs bigger _and_ her face younger—she's like fifty years old and she has one over on Anko (then again everyone has one over on Anko) when it comes to looks.

You still don't believe me? Fine. Remember that specky kid? Yeah, the weirdo with the glasses? Remember when he got sent to the bitch's office a few weeks ago? That wanna-be nerd was a smarty pants when it came to one class—what was it? Science?—and he never missed a day. As soon as he went to that woman's office, I never saw him in that class again.

Alright, so that isn't so hot of an example but I swear to you, she's doing something to the kids who get here. Now I know what you're wondering. Why am I still okay then? Considering the millions of times I've been sent here? The answer is simple. Tsunade knows I want to have sex with her, and she's not going to ruin her chances with the first man who comes around and wants screw her old ass. The only reason why I haven't is because it would make me a hypocrite. I can't fuck teachers (until Kurenai finally gives in and let's me bend her backwards) if I'm gonna destroy them for fucking students.

"Kid, have you been listening to a word I've said?"

Wow. I seriously need to stop staring at her tits. I can't even hear her talking when I'm looking at them. I look up, just to be polite, and smile. "Sure, I have."

Tsunade rolls her eyes and brushes her hair back. I think it's hilarious how her elbow nudges her left boob and makes a jiggle just a tad before it falls back into place.

"Tell me one thing I've said in the past minute."

Oh. So that's how it is. For some reason, I feel all giddy. Maybe it's because I've admitted that I'd screw this women. All of the sudden, I feel like I can't really get mad at her. Remember what I said in the beginning? About her not giving a damn about the grades the kids in her school get? I don't even care anymore. She's hot.

"Are you even listening to me, brat?"

I lean back in my chair and spread my legs, for _her_ benefit, of course.. "Sure I'm listening." I say. "But I have a proposition for you." It's been a while since I've felt this way, but it has to be done.

"And what's that?"

"How would you like to have sex with me?"

I quite enjoy the way her face falls into some sort of deep shock, like I asked her something _weird_, which I didn't.

"…W-what did you just say?" the shock is still there, but all of the sudden her eyes furrow into this deep anger, like she's about to blow up or something.

I'm going to try to be reasonable. "Listen. I know you and your secretary have something going on, but let's face it. Even lesbians have to have a real cock sometime. I'm here to provide that for yo—"

Cr—_cch_!

Oh my—

Holy shit.

What the fuck.

She punched me.

"You punched me?" I say rubbing my face and trying to get up from the floor. I'm on the damn _floor_. She punched me, and now I'm on the damn _floor_.

Tsunade holds her fist to her chest and I swear there is a gleam in her eye. "You have five seconds to get the fuck out of my office, brat." She growls.

I blink at her, confused. Is she really passing up this epic chance to get with me?

"_What_?" she growls.

Hmm. Apparently I asked that question out loud.

"Listen, Naruto." She spits my name. "I gave you a chance to leave unscathed, but you blew it. Now you're going to get what's coming to you."

Oh. My. God.

SHE'S GONNA EAT ME.

I don't even hesitate.

I get up and run out of there.

I'm on the other side of the hall when I hear the bitch screaming, "_Come back, brat_!"

I start running again, and LOL, I pass Sakura getting fingered by some random near a water fountain.

I shout something along the lines of _slutbitchbabaykiller_ at her before I make a turn and head towards the library.

Let me tell you this now before you get the wrong idea. There is no way in hell that I would ever enter a library save for the _occasional_ event of running away from certain busty bitches, and perhaps the _occasional_ hump-fest with the _occasional_ desperate chick who gets a kick off of doing the dirty in the _Romance_ section.

I burst through the doors of the library, not giving a damn about how loud I'm being (I'm doing everyone a favor, really; who the hell wants to be in a _library_?). The first place I head towards is the back, in the non-fiction section where _no one_ with a life goes. I'm in the mood to be alone, I think. So I can beat the boner I've gotten from the fantasy I just had of Tsunade running after me with her tits slapping her in the face.

When I get to the Non-Fiction section, I stop and stare at the person standing there, on her tippy-toes, trying to reach a book.

Talk about busty-bitches.

_Hinata_.

But can I even call her a bitch? _Can_ I? Nah. She deserves better than that. I really don't know how to explain this girl. She comes with literally everything. Her ass is FAT, her breasts put watermelons to shame, her waist is slim, and she's fucking _cute_.

She's only got one downside. She's not a whore. All right, I know what you're gonna say. If she were a whore, I'd probably hate the shit out of her. But look at it my way for a second: if she were a whore, I would have fucked her already. LoseWin-LoseWIn situation.

I make a noise with my throat and she gasps, softly before turning to face me.

And oh my sweet baby Jesus.

Her eyes. I don't know how to explain them. They're like…colorless—but not. They're so freaking pale, with like a hint of some kind of purple—lavender, I think.

For some reason, instead of going straight to her tits, I stare into those eyes of hers, and am reminded of another pair of eyes.

Gaara's.

What time is it anyway? I take out my cellphone and see in bright letter 10:41. Damn it. Two hours until lunch time, where I'll recruit that tiny redhead for my master plan.

"A-ah, N-Naruto, w-w-what are y-you doing h-here."

I also forgot to mention something else: Hinata's got this infuriating stutter. And it's not like the cute, nervous stutter; it's like that stutter people have to go to speech therapy for. It ain't pretty.

But she's so damn _cute_. If it wasn't for that I'd probably smack the bitch every time she said (or _tried_ to say) something.

"Oh, Hinata." I say, acting like I wasn't watching the curvature of her breasts to her armpit. It really isn't much to look at, since she's so friggin' modest. She wears button downs that reach past her collar bone, so all I really have to beat my dick over for is the outline of her curvy body. "I was just, uh…looking for a book."

Hinata's eyes go wide and she smiles a smile that says she isn't sure if she should smile (how's that for a fucking alliteration tweedle dee-dum bitches).

"O-oh. W-w-well, I-I-I-I-I w-w-w-was just apoin-apoin-a-a-a-_apoin_—"

Oh my fucking—

"Spit it out!" I scream.

"I was just appointed as the new librarian!"

I raise an eyebrow. I don't know what the fuck a librarian does. "So?"

"A-ah, i-i-i-i-it me-m-m-means th-that I-I-I-I-I-I- c-c-c-c-can h-h-_help_ yo-you fi-fi-fi-_find_ a-a-a-a-a bo-b-b-b-b-_book_."

Oh, man. That was torture.

"Nah, I think I'm good."

"O-o-o-oh. I-I-I-I s-s-s-see."

"Hn." I stare at her for a moment longer. What a shame. Cute, curvy, but that fucking _stutter_. I shake my head. I would totally bang her backwards right here and right now if I knew I was gonna be tempted to put a bullet through her asshole if she kept on stuttering like that….

Then again…A stutter would be completely different during sex wouldn't it?

Just imagine: N-N-N-N-Narutooo!

I laugh. Well then.

"Hinata, I have a proposition for you."

Hinata looks at me with gargantuan eyes. "Y-y-y-y-yes, N-N-N-Naruto?"

"Have sex with me. Right here. Right now. Against these fucking non-fiction books."

The way her eyes blow out of her face is almost comical. I imagine her as one of those animated cartoon freaks like Sailor Moon or some shit.

All of the sudden she starts shaking, and I think she's having a seizure. I blink, and raise an eyebrow. Is the prospect of having sex with me really taking this much out of her? I know I'm amazing, but there's no reason to get all shaky over it.

"I accept...Naruto."

I blink. Oh my god. Did she…_not_ stutter just now?

I'm not at all surprised by what she's just said. I smirk at her and begin to unbutton my jeans. "You know Hinata. This has been coming for a long time. I figured, since you're obviously a goody two shoes virgin, you wouldn't want to do with me, but I'm glad that—"

"Da _fuck_, Naruto? Swag."

I look up. And low and fucking behold it's fucking Kiba AKA Mr. Swag.

I roll my eyes.

"Listen, asshole." I start, not stopping with my zipper. "Don't you see me in the middle of something?"

Mr. Swag comes in between us and gives Hinata a betrayed look. "Yo, Hinata what da fuck you think you doin? And Naruto? I know you ain't tryna have sex wit ma girl. Swag."

I sigh. Before I punch the lights out of this mofo, let me give a small history about this asshole. Kiba started high school, like any normal kid: doomed and stupid. Then in the summer of freshman year, he had sex with some ghetto-ass chick from Coldgun District, and he came back like this.

I mean, look at what the fuck he's _wearing_. He's got fifty golden necklaces, a ring on each finger, and he talks like—

"Yo muthafucka I was talkin to you. What da fuck you tryna do wit ma girl? You tryna compete with ma swag son? Swag."

Yeah. Like that. And he says the word swag after everything. It doesn't matter what he just said. He says swag right afterwards.

When I asked him why he did that, he told me that he had so much swag he had to alleviate the power of it by saying it after all of his brilliant sentences.

"Yo mutha—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I say waving a tired hand in his face. "First of all. Hinata isn't _your_ girl. She's _a_ girl that I'm gonna ride up this bookcase, so why don't you run along somewhere—"

"Muthafucka, shut the fuck up. Swag. Hinata what da fuck you doin wit this mofo? Swag."

Hinata looks about ready to cry. "I-I-I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-s-s-so s-s-s-s-soo-so-so-so-sorryyy, K-K-K-K-K-Kiibaa."

I blink. "Wait. What the fuck is going on. Hinata, are you _with_ this guy?"

"Course she is, muthafucka! Swag." Kiba gets in my face and points a finger in my eye. "I suggest you get the fuck outta here fo I punch you so hard yo dead parents gonna feel it. Swag."

I raise an eyebrow slowly. Then I move my head to the side so I can see Hinata standing behind him. "What you're saying is," I start slowly. "You had a boyfriend, and you were _still_ gonna have sex with me?"

Hinata gasp and puts her head down in shame.

I smirk—then I burst out laughing. Well then, "SWAG!", I scream.

Then I get the fuck outta there.

I'm not even passed the non-fiction section when I hear Kiba's feet running after me for a while, and _damn_ he's fucking fast. I burst out of the library door and try to find anything to hide in.

"Come back here! Swag!"

Ten meters.

Twenty meters.

I'm like sweating shit pellets now, and that fucking ghetto-ass motherfather is is fucking behind me-

Fuck it.

I put my hand on the first door-knob I come across, swing the door open, and go into the room.

_Mistake_.

Anko stares at me with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell are you doing back here?" Her eyes go down to my pants. She gasps loudly and looks away. "What the hell—Naruto put your dick back in your pants!"

Just then—

"Gotcha, bitch!"

Mr. Swag comes up from behind me and pushes me to the ground with him.

All of the sudden we're swinging fists, and the entire class is on its feet, cheering us on.

Anko is practically pulling her hair and screaming at us to stop. "Naruto! Kiba! I want you both in the principle's office!"

"Whaaaaat, _again_?" I say, caught off-guard.

Then Kiba takes my collar and pulls me to his face. I gasp at his bad breath. "Dude—_mints_! Have you heard of them?"

He ignores me, a pulls his fist back. "This is for Hinata!"

The fist comes towards me at great speed.

And then it turns black.

But not before I hear a fading battle cry that sounds suspiciously like 'swaaaaaaaaaaag.'

* * *

When I wake up I'm in on a bed, staring up at a bland, offwhite ceiling.

"Finally awake, brat?"

When I turn to look, it's...

My fucking stepfather.

I sigh and turn to look at the ceiling again.

"What time is it?"

"The fuck does that matter?"

"Just tell me that time, asshole."

I hear him sigh and shuffle around. "It's almost one in the afternoon. Why?"

_Damn_ it. I bang the side of the bed with a fist.

I missed lunch.

What am I gonna do about my master plan now?

Damn it, I've been thinking too hard-

_You_ think of something.

* * *

End of Chapter. Swag.

Author's Notes

**On a scale of 1 to _swag_ how would you rate this chapter? LOL, 'muthafuckas'. =]**

Sorry for the long wait. And sorry if the chapter seems rushed. I'll probably be updating more things, since I have a month of vacation from Universityy =]

I apologize if anything in this chapter was offensive =/ All in good humor! =D


	5. Meeting the Sandy Candy Man

**Everything That Makes Me Sick**

Chapter Five: _Meeting the Sandy-Candy Man _

* * *

While your stupid ass was away, Mr. Swag brought his boys with him and stood outside my dingy little house, waiting for me to come out. They chanted "kill the home-wrecker, kill the home-wrecker" for about an hour before I came out and told them to shut the fuck up, in the name of their Swag-God, and had to face thirty fists and a dick in my face.

I didn't put it in my mouth, mind you. I'd take a bullet to the anus before I let fifty wannabe mulatto mobsters shove a dick in my mouth. Maybe in my ear or something. But not my mouth.

Just saying.

And honestly, I think it's effing ridiculous that that asshole Kiba considers me a home-wrecker; that insult should only be used by women, for women, since they're the only one's who'd ever care about the condition of a stupid house in a situation like…whatever it was that happened in the library two days ago.

That's right, two days ago. I skipped school yesterday. Not because Kiba and his second-best swag crew beat me up; I just needed a time to myself. I needed time to think about how you fucking abandoned me and left me to fend for myself while I was practically gang-banged (not that I needed your help anyway), and about what I'm gonna do about the plan.

You remember the plan, right? Recruit Candy-hair, force him to help me take out all the rotten bastards, audaciously under the pseudonym of _teachers_, and show everyone once and for all that no one messes with me, or any innocent citizen forced into the education system.

My plan went to shit because Kiba, the swagtastic shit stain blew it up in my face with his gangbangery, but it will be different today. Why? Because I'm not starting school at 7:50 like those bastards require us to (I barely go to my first period classes anyway); I'm starting at 11:25—lunch time. I'm not sure if Candy-hair'll be there, but I'm gonna snuff him out until I find him, and when I do, he's going to have no choice but to confess Orochimaru's, and any other teacher's sins against him and join me in my quest to fuck shit up.

The three bowls of noodles I ate just a few minutes are sloshing in my stomach as I jog to school. Why jogging, you ask? Because someone once told me if you jump around right after you eat, you'll get sick and want to vomit. I'm not about to stick a finger down my throat, but if I irritate my inner bowels a bit, I'll look sick when I get to school, which will brilliantly explain why I'm late, and why I missed a day yesterday.

Can anyone tell me why schools made up this whole "Doctor's Note" bullshit? Why the hell do I need a doctor's note to validate missing a day of school? You don't need to go to an effing doctor if you're sick. The cure for all sickness is sleep and T.V. No one needs a fucking doctor's note to get permission to sleep and watch T.V. Getting sick is your body's way of telling you that you need an extra day of a weekend, because school contains too much bullshit for you to quite make it back yet. No one needs a doctor's note for that. But since the school system says you so, I've made up my own doctor's note: if they say I'm gonna be punished for missing yet another day of school, I'm gonna vomit in their face. Simple, sane solution. There I go with those damned alliterations again.

School is up ahead, and I know I've missed the initial lunch bell because there are people crowded outside, walking around the yard, or getting as far as they off the school property before the hired school officials can tell them to get the hell back on school premises.

I don't want to look through this crowd of people yet; because I know a lot of students actually have to get lunch from the lunchroom before they can come out here. The ones already outside are the anorexic pussies who eat cigarettes for every meal, or the lucky ones who have home-made lunches. I don't take Candy-hair for being an anorexic poundphobic bitch, and he looks too pathetic to have people at home who actually make lunches for him.

So I'm headed to the lunchroom. I keep an eye out for Mr. Wish-I-Had-Swagger-So-I-Say-Swag-at-the-End-of-Each-Sentence-to-Validate-My-Swagless-Existence because I really don't feel like holding a towel to my bloody nose for an hour. People stare at me as I walk down the hallway, and not with a "oh, it's that guy" kind of look, but an "oh, it's _that guy_" kind of look, with the negative inflection when it comes to who I am and what I represent as _that guy_.

This doesn't bother me. I figure they all know about the fight yesterday, or people heard about my offer to the busty bitch of principle. I figure Kiba's getting the same shit, since he was involved in the fight, but I don't give a half a rat's ass, 'cause that fatherfucker deserves it.

Anyway. The lunchroom.

It's effing packed the way it always is when it's only been a few minutes after the bell has rung, but I push pass the line that starts at the entrance, and ignore the glares and "dumb fuck" that come my way. I even give some back, but I don't really have time for that right now. Right now, I have to find Candy-hair. I thought it'd be easier considering he has _candy_-hair, but it takes me like seven minutes before I find his red bush of a scalp standing up from a table near the back of the lunchroom with a look on in face like someone pissed on his cornflakes and he had no choice but to eat it anyway because he was too late for school to make another batch or something.

I waste no time going over to him, getting in his face and stopping him from going wherever he needs to go. He looks at me with wide eyes, and I swear his eyes are like two thirds of his fucking face, but I don't have time to think about stupid details like that.

"You," I say, putting a finger on his tiny chest. The bastard winces, like I'm stabbing him with a damn knife. "We have a meeting." I finished, and I admit it's lame, but I'm not worried about being lame in front of Candy-hair here, not when he looks at me like he's ready to faint or something.

"U-uhmm…ahhh…"

Aaand, he's got a case of the Hinata-Static-Stutter. Fantastic.

"Sorry to interrupt your orgasm," I say, pushing him some more with my finger. "But sit your ass back down. We need to talk."

Candy-hair looks at me, and oh my effing stars and garters his eyes get even bigger, and his weird pupils shake in his eyes, like their having their own kind of epileptic shock.

"Are you…" I stop myself before I say "okay", because I remember that I don't give a damn. I never give damns about people. It's always been physically, and mentally impossible for me, and I'm not going to start now.

"The hell is wrong with you?" That's more like it.

Candy-hair blinks at me, and takes a step back, away from my finger, before bowing his head. "I'm…you were…not here…yesterday…" he mumbles, and I literally have to cup my ear like an old person to hear him better.

"No, I wasn't. I got caught up trying to save the sanctity of my anus in a gangbang." Then I grab his shoulder and pull him towards me, and bend a bit so we're directly face to face. "I know you haven't been so lucky." I whisper to him gravely. "I know that rat-faced Orochimaru has fucked you sideways—_don't_ deny it," I warn when I see him open his mouth to protest. "I'm not going to tell anyone. Not before I expose that studentfucker and all the other studentfuckers in this damn school for the student fuckers they are."

Candy-hair is breathing quickly, now, and if you thought his eyes would stop growing, you're wrong. Those shits just grew another ten degrees in circumference right before my own (normal-sized) eyes.

"I…" he starts to say, and he looks from side to side.

I know there are people watching us right now, but I can't care. Not when this man (which I hesitate to call a man, honestly) is so vital to my master plan. Not that it matters if he disagrees with me; he's going to help me whether he likes it or not.

"I…" he says again, and I swear to Allah, he's digging into my nerves more than that Busty-Bitch's static-stutter. "C-can we talk about this outside?"

I blink and step back for a second. "Uhm." I'll curse myself later, for speaking his language.

"It's just that…" he looks to the side again, nervously. "I think…this is…the kind of conversation…someone should have…privately…" he looks up at me then, giving me a upward cocksucker look that girls give you when they're holding your dick and asking permission to blow.

I swallow with difficulty and look to the side. Then I process what Candy-hair has just said. When I replay his words in my head, I realize he's lost that static-stutter speech, and moved onto this sort of annoying slow speech, like he's looking for the words to say as he's saying them.

"We can be private here, just as much as we can outside." I say, finally, raising an eyebrow. "There are free tables everywhere." I point at a random one to my left, just in case the little bastard needs proof.

He looks at me all cocksucker like again, and moves his lips like he's fixing lipstick. "But…I was…hoping…that I could…spend some time…outside…" he says, in that infuriating slowness.

"Well. I. Think. Here. Is. Fine." I reply, trying to imitate him but failing miserably.

As if his audacity knows know bounds, he moves a little closer to me, that cocksucker look on full blast, and dips his head a bit so all I can see are those huge fucking eyes. "But I was…really…looking _forward_…to it…" he says.

My eyes are twitching. Don't tell me how stupid I look. I know how stupid I look. But this guy…

I take a step back, away from him, and point an accusing finger. "You…" I start seriously. "You weren't raped by Orochimaru at all!" I shout. "You probably fucking _wanted_ it you _sick fuck_!"

I can't effing believe this. My inside man, the person who was going to help me with this project, is a fucking slut. He's got cock-sucker eyes, and cock-sucker lips, and damn those cock-sucker eyes, looking at me with those damned cock-sucker eyes, I wish he didn't have those damned cock-sucker eyes—

"That's…that's not…" and now the little bastard is narrowing his eyes, like I offended him or something again, and darting his eyes from side to side as more and more people look in interest.

It's not like I'm being discreet after all.

"It's just…I've been…really wanting to…go outside…and I just—"

"Why the _fuck_ are you _talking_ like that?" I shout, exasperated. "Spit it _out_!"

Candy-hair blinks rapidly now, like he's stuck in a corner. But he looks more offended then apologetic, the bastard. "_What_?...I'm…I…just…I…don't…I…can't—"

"Oh, my _God_." I seethe, and I never knew my voice could mix such exasperation and anger together like that. "Alright, alright, we can fucking go outside. God _damn_, good fucking gracio—" I stop then, because if I continue, I'm going to put a bullet through my brain. And I need this brain.

Candy-hair has the audacity to raise an eyebrow at me, the little bastard. As if I'm being weird. He bows a little, and for a second I think his hair falls into whatever gruel they're serving in the lunchroom today, before he utters an ungrateful "thanks" not separated by infuriating pauses this time.

"Alright, then." I say finally, and turn and start walking towards the Cafeteria exit, not looking to see if the little bastard is following behind me. But I'd bet money (that I don't have) that the feminine pitter-patter of feet I hear are his stupid little girly legs, walking fast to catch up.

When we're outside, Candy-hair surprises me by somehow taking the lead and leading us to a creepy-ass tree with leaves that extend far past the trunk in the back of the school. There are people all over the yard, but no one sits under the tree. I'm not surprised, since everyone in this damn school has been trying to rock the NarutoTan™ for months, and if they miss out on any type of sun and sit in shade, they'd miss their mark. Not that they'll ever get it; you have to be _born_ with perfection.

Don't make fun of me, but since there's no chair, I practically have no choice but to sit cross-legged in front of this motherfather. And when I open my mouth to speak, the little jackass starts eating, like there aren't important matters at hand. He sits there eating, like I don't even exist.

I give the guy a full four minutes before I've had enough. I take his tray and easily tip it to the side and watch as all the contents slip off and fall to the ground next to him. He doesn't even try to stop it. He watches all his _precious food_ fall onto the ground with normal sized eyes (which is progress for him, I bet) and does nothing it.

"Now," I say, not waiting for him to look up. "I have a few things I need to say."

He looks at me with prissy narrowed eyes, that I can't take seriously because he's so damned small. The inside of his mouth moves, so I know he's chewing his gums indignantly from the inside. The nerve of him.

"I'll start with my plan," I continue. "You and I both know that this place people like to call a school is a shit hole in a shit storm of teachers that abuse and rape their students. I know you're a victim to this, so I need your help to take these fuckers down."

Candy-hair blinks at me slowly. Like he's contemplating whether to run away, or ask me if I'm sane. "And…how do you suppose you'll…do…that…?" He asks carefully.

"Easy." I say. "Buuut, I can't tell you the plan until I know you're on board."

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, and looks away for a moment. "What can I do…" he asked slowly. "I don't…think…I...—"

"Let me stop you right there," _before you make me smack you with that slow motion talking shit_, "Just answer me this: did you are did you not get raped by Orochimaru? Just admit that, join my cause, and then we'll go through the plan." I say it slowly, because this guy hasn't proven that he's the sharpest tool in the shed.

Candy-hair looks uncomfortable again, and he sets his (empty courtesy of me) tray aside. "I don't…" he seems to be looking for the words. "I…wasn't…_raped_." He says, and looks at me like he's trying to make me understand something. "No one gets…raped…here. In this…school…" he pulls his legs towards him and starts taking off one of his shoes. Before I can ask what the fuck he's doing, he shakes the shoe he's taken off and I watch as sand particles come out.

…

…

"Why the fuck do you have sand in your shoe?"

He looks embarrassed for a moment before he shrugs and puts it back on. "This morning…I went to the beach…and my feet…got wet…and the sand…went into my shoes…"

I blink. Then I scowl.

I've made a mistake. Candy-hair is definitely _not_ the man for this job. Candy-hair man, is a Sandy-man, and Zeus knows Sandmen can't do anything worth shit.

"What the fuck are you saying about kids not getting raped here?" I ask, getting back on topic. "Of course they are. Almost every teacher in this damned school has bend some poor sap over to give them better grades, and I'm not gonna just stand by and—"

"But its not…_rape_." Sandy says, and he's looking at me like it makes him uncomfortable to say these things. "They…_ask_….for it." He continues. "No one…is…_forced_." He looks away and brushes candy-ass red hair behind his ear.

I blink at him. "Are you…_defending_ the teachers?" I ask incredulously. "So fucking what if the kids ask for it! No teacher should be going around accepting fuck requests from fourteen year old kids! And for what reason? Higher marks? It doesn't make any fucking sense!"

Sandman has backed into a tree now, as if I'm scaring him. But I'm only telling him the truth.

"No kid should have the fucking option to fuck their teacher—I don't care if you're failing everything. I'd rather take a bullet to the _face_, before I fuck a teacher—_especially_ Orochimaru," I add to sting. "Because my grades are worthless when compared to my fucking dignity!" I shout, and I know people are looking at us now, pretending not to be listening in.

Candy-hair looks like he's about ready to bolt, and his face is red, and his mouth is pursed in a hard line. "You…don't…get it." He says slowly, looking into my eyes with a narrowed look like that I _still_ can't take seriously. "It's…not…like that…" he continues. "Grades…are…They're…_important_—"

"Important enough to fuck a butt-ugly, pussy lipped, pedophilic, ass munching, sixty-year old rapist like _Orochimaru_?" I exclaim incredulously. "Enough to be bend over backwards on a Zeus damned table in a storage room while some old-timer fucks you with his ancient _cock_?" I literally can't contain my anger, and I feel like I'm going to implode on myself. "Why are people so fucking desperate? Why were _you_ so fucking desperate?" I wave my hands exasperatingly and look into the redhead's eyes determined to find the answer there.

Candy-hair looks devastated, like I called his mother a whore and said I was his real father or something. "You don't…" he starts, and his chest is rising up and down fast, like there's a detonator on his heart or something. "You just don't…"

"I don't what, _what_? Fucking spit it out—!"

"You don't get it!" The little man shouts, and he makes a move to stand up. "You…you can't…j-_judge_ people for…doing whatever…they _can_—!" his face is so red and angry, and I figure he's talking so slowly now because that anger is overtaking him. But I'll be damned if I let this little guy walk out here feeling all justified 'cause he's mad.

"Of course I can judge them!" I shout back. "I'm not a hypocrite! I've never let my teacher screw me, and my grades are _shit_, lemmie tell you—"

"You…probably…don't have…people…who _care_…about your grades." He says, still breathing deeply. He's digging into his bag now, which is some girly messenger looking thing even if it's all grays and blacks.

"Of course I have people who care." I say, not shouting, but still keeping my voice elevated. "My asshole of a stepdad knows I can't get a job with my grades, so I'll be mooching off of him the rest of my life! That scares the shit out of him. But you know what? I don't give a damn."

Candy-hair shakes his head, seemingly exasperated with me (as if he has the right). "That's not…the same." He stops fumbling through his bag. He just has his hand in there, awkwardly, as if waiting for the moment to pull something out. I wonder if it's mace.

I wouldn't put it passed him.

"Listen to me," I say, trying to make final point. "I know part of the fault belongs to the students." I acquiesce easily; that's the whole reason why I chose Candy-hair for the job in the first place; he looked like he didn't _want_ to be butt fucked by that snake-bastard, so I thought he'd be on my side about this.

"But the biggest fault belongs to the teachers." I continue. "Why? Because those bastards look forward to fucking desperate little asses like yours. Most of these fuckers make classes impossible to pass just so they can get a few students in their pants. _And_, if they don't like the way a student looks, they fail them 'cause they don't wanna fuck him. Now what kind of fucking system is that?" I ask him, trying to make him understand.

He puts his head down and looks sad, the pathetic little twit, like I hurt his feelings or something.

"I'm sure you've never had any problem getting the grades you want by pulling down your pants, since you look the way you do,"

Candy-hair looks at me, raising both eyebrows.

The bastard thinks I'm calling him beautiful. "_Slutty_." I correct him.

The redhead frowns again, and looks down again.

"There's nothing right with this school." I continue. "And it all starts with the teachers. We need to expose them. Not even the principle knows about the whole fucking business. I'm sure she hears rumors but she probably ignores them, the whore. We need to get the good teachers in on the dirty little secrets that suffocate this school, and once they know, we move on to the press, and once we've got the press, we've a hold on the media, and once we have that—you can say goodbye to those fucking teachers for good."

Gaara—that's his real name, if you forgot—stays silent for several moments. "What happens…to the school…when you…accomplish this…?" he asks quietly.

"What are you talking about?"

"The teachers…who have….sex with students…They are more than half…of the teacher staff…" he said. "They'll…have to shut down Konoha High…if they have to…get rid of them…all…"

"Then we'll get new ones." I don't know why this kid is fussing over it so much.

"It's not…that easy…" he almost whispers, before shaking his head and making a point not to look into my eyes. "What about the kids…who depend…on teacher's…malpractice…to get good grades." He finishes shamefully, and put his head down again. "What if…they replace all the teachers….with good teachers…and I _fail_…again…"

My god, I think the little bastard is going to cry.

And I feel…really…_uncomfortable_ with that.

"If you follow my plan, you won't have to worry about your grades any longer." I say, but not before clearing my throat. "You'll be this town's high school charity case, and no one will ever cross you again after they find out all the things you've been through."

Gaara frowns, and does that infuriating thing with his lips again, like he's fixing lipstick. What the hell kind of nervous tick is that? "What am I…supposed to do, exactly?"

I pause. Do I really want to tell him my master plan?

I figure I have nothing to lose. Even if he tells, I can always find someone else—someone who isn't pro-rapist teacher—and have them go with the plan instead.

"We're going to make a video." I say. "A video featuring you and your squeeze Orochimaru and others." I watch as his eyes widen, and keep on widening as I continue. "Then we're going to threaten to post said videos on a certain social networking site, and when they don't comply to our requests, then we're going to post it on popular adult video sites, and by the third day the video has been posted, there will be an assembly addressing the video and its content—"

"You want to videotape me having sex with him?" Candy-hair asks incredulously, and he's shaking. "I can't do that." He says. "Everyone will find out and—"

"First of all, no one is going to give a damn. Secondly, it'll be censored." I reassure him. "It'll only show Orochimaru's face. People will speculate on who the student is, yeah, but we can blur your hair-color a bit. When you come out as one of his victims, there will be _hundreds_ of kids coming out at the same time—"

"But…my father…"

"Fuck your father." I say angrily. "Not literally." I add, quickly, just in case his mind went there. "Besides, the rape part will be played up to the point where no student will be blamed no matter how many times teachers, who will eventually be exposed one by one, claim it was consensual, after we post their videos online."

"How are we going to…expose the other teachers?"

I frown at him. "Get with the program," I say, snapping my fingers in his face. "I'm going to record you having sex with _all of them_, and we are going to post these videos on the internet."

His eyes widen again, and he suddenly looks angry. "I can't do that." He says angrily.

I sigh. " Well I was gonna have you have sex with snake face only and just help me record all the other teachers in the act with _other_ students, but after your display of whorishness in the lunchroom today, I figure you have enough sexual tendencies to be able to do it this way. It'll be easier for me, and it involves less sneaking around." I say truthfully.

Gaara looks confused. "My…whorishness…?" he asks looking genuinely bemused and offended.

But I don't buy it.

"Yeah. Whorishness. Now are you with me or not?" I ask, getting really sick of this conversation and everything about it. It wasn't supposed to take this long to recruit Candy-hair. We were supposed to have planned the time and place where the video would be recorded by now—

"No."

I blink. "What?"

Gaara shakes his head, and starts to stand up from his spot under the tree. "No. I don't…want to do this…I would…get hurt…"

I blink. Again. "What?"

The little bastard frowns a small frown. "You want to ruin my life…so you can…get back at the teachers…" he said carefully. "You need…a better…plan." He looked away, as if uncomfortable with what he said. "I can't…help you…" he finishes quietly.

I blink. Third time. "What?"

He sighs and opens his mouth to speak, before he closes it and shakes his head. "Forget it…" he says quietly. There's a small quirk of his lips, and he gives me the most hideously awkward kind of half-smile I've ever seen, that leaves as soon as it comes (which I've become an expert at) before he turns and walks away.

He has a girly walk.

But fuck that for right now.

My plan…

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

* * *

End of Chapter

**Authors' Note**

If anyone found anything offensive in this chapter I'm really sorry; all in good humor, but if it's something you can't leave alone, I will edit it out.

I'm so glad we got to see a bit of Gaara in the chapter, although his character seems to be a bit weird and undeveloped. I will develop him more in the future chappies.

And poor Naruto, what will he do about his plan, now? I suppose we'll see in the next chapter.

I've been trying to update other things as well—wish me luck, and please forgive me for taking so long. College is poop.

Later.


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